Letters
by Electra126
Summary: A series of letters showing different viewpoints and encounters after what happened between Shane and Carmen in the season three finale.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Letters: A Mini-Series  
**Author:** electra126  
**Pairing:** Shane/Carmen  
**Distribution:** Please ask.  
**Feedback:** Yes Please!  
**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of the characters, nor am I making any profit for them. You wanna ask Showtime and Ilene Chaiken for the legal stuff; I'm just a poor little Sharmen fan that wants a happy ending.  
**Spoilers: **Through the end of season 3.  
**Summary:** A series of letters showing different viewpoints and encounters regarding what happened after the events in the last episode of Season 3. Cos, yunno . . . we all need closure, dammit. :p

_

* * *

__Your family won't let me talk to you, and I can't say I blame them.  
__I let them down.  
__I let me down.  
__But worst of all, I let you down. Again.  
__I want to say I'm sorry. Even though I know it's not enough, I still want to try . . .  
__I can't take it back, but I can try to make it better._

_Please talk to me, Carmen.  
__I love you.  
__Shane

* * *

_

Shane read over the letter in her hands at least one hundred times before she finally realized that it was ready to send. It was really no different from the several others that lay crumpled and scattered around her bedroom floor.

_Their_ bedroom floor.

It was still their bedroom, or at least it felt that way. Carmen hadn't come back to the house once since the fiasco in Canada nearly two months ago. Her clothes lay littered around the room, still in the same place they had fallen when she took them off. Her hairbrush and cosmetics rest on the dresser, a silent memorial to the love that Shane let slip away.

Every day seemed like a battle to Shane since she had come back from her two week sabbatical following what happened in Canada. She had wandered southward from Canada, taking random buses and trains to lead her slowly back to the mess that awaited her in LA. Never once for a single second did she forget that she had screwed up. The reason she hadn't headed directly back to LA was because she didn't want to face the huge mess that she had created. But . . . she had been scared. She saw what her father had and how easily he threw it away, and she doubted herself.

Could cheating be hereditary? And abandoning?

Shane had known the pain of abandonment from such a young age, and she still lived with the residual hurt and mental duress. Never ever did she want to cause such a pain in Carmen. Little did she know, however, that leaving Carmen at the altar would have the exact same effect.

She returned to LA only to lock herself away in her bedroom for several days, drinking her sorrows away while clinging to what was left of Carmen in her life.

The troops came around, of course, but Shane had pretty much shut them all out at that point. Jenny kept a close watch over her friend, making sure that she wasn't getting close enough to the edge that she couldn't be brought back.

Shane wasn't sure that she'd ever leave her room again, at least until she heard Jenny whispering to Max one night about a conversation she'd had that day on the telephone with Carmen.

Carmen had, apparently, immediately gone back with her mother and family to her childhood home, where she still remains. Jenny had offered to try to salvage some of her belongings, which made Shane lock her bedroom door in response. There wasn't any way at that point that she was going to give up what little she had left of her former lover.

It was all for nil, as it was, as Carmen didn't want anything back. She told Jenny that she had everything that she needed, and that she could just toss out whatever was left of hers around the apartment.

Hearing that should have made Shane want to give up altogether. Strangely, though, it had the opposite effect on her. That day, she got up out of bed, showered, and made her way into the kitchen for something to eat.

Upon walking into the kitchen to find Shane eating a large sandwich and looking out the window animatedly, Jenny sat down next to her and waited to just . . . listen.

"I'm gonna make it better." Shane had said between mouthfuls.

Jenny smiled at her, laying her hand on Shane's leg.

"Tell me what you need."

Shane wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, sparing a short sideways glance at her friend.

"Paper. A pen. Luck."

And with that, Jenny walked to the bookcase and pulled out some letterhead and walked back towards Shane, snagging a pen off the kitchen table as she walked by it.

"Paper. Pen." She bent down and kissed the top of Shane's head softly, causing the girl to slow down, then stop moving altogether. "And all the luck in the world."

That night, Shane had spent the entire evening pouring her heart and soul into a letter. She agonized over every word, borrowing Jenny's dictionary and thesaurus several times before just moving them into her room permanently. Never before had she said so many words that actually had meaning behind them. But she wanted Carmen to know how she felt.

She needed Carmen to know that she was sorry. And that she wanted to make it better.

Part of her actually believed that she might have a shot with the letter. It was heartfelt, but it still managed to let Carmen keep the ball in her own court. She sealed and stamped the envelope, addressing it to Mrs. Morales' house before dropping it in the corner mailbox.

The fresh air felt good to Shane as she walked back to her house from the mailbox. She felt renewed. She had hope. She had a goal, and she was going to work towards it with everything that she had left in her.

And then the letter came back to her in the mail.

As did the second, the third, and every other letter that she had sent in the past six weeks.

Now, as Shane sat on the back porch of her house with Jenny sat nearby, she fiddled nervously with the letter in her hand. One last letter, she told herself. It was the same as all of the crumpled ones on her bedroom floor. Their bedroom floor. But it was different from the ones that she had sent the first ten times. It was simple. She hadn't poured out her heart in this one. She didn't go into in-depth explanations and try to pass the blame.

This was her last hope. Short. Simple. Very Shane-like in every way. And instead of mailing this one as she had all the others, Shane was dropping it off at the club she knew that Carmen would be DJ-ing at that night so that no friends or family members could intervene.

Sure, she had tried to call. Daily. But every time, she'd be cursed at in Spanish or told flat-out to stay away.

This letter was, in fact, her last try.

Jenny had stayed by her side through the whole ordeal, offering encouragement or advice when necessary. And now, as she watched her friend get up off the porch and head down the driveway, she was proud. Proud that she had made an effort. Proud that she was being strong. And proud that she was doing something to take hold of her life rather than laying back and letting life beat her down.

She only hoped it wasn't all for naught.

Shane made her way slowly to the club, comforted in the fact that it wouldn't be open to the general public yet and that she could simply step in, leave the letter with the manager, and slip out unnoticed.

She tried to keep as low a profile as she could as she made her way down the busy street. The last thing she needed was to run into an ex-fuck that wanted to rekindle the flame. That was the last thing that Shane could even think about at this point. All she wanted to do was get Carmen to give her five minutes to apologize, and see what would happen from there.

Pulling her knitted cap further down over her hair, she slipped down the busy street unnoticed, finally reaching the club and knocking on the front glass door until one of the bar-crew came up and let her in.

She left the letter with the night manager, giving her strict instructions on where to leave the letter. The manager was more than happy to comply, remembering Shane straight away from back in the day when she used to have the run of the floor in the very same club.

Smiling slightly, Shane made her way out of the club and back towards home, happy yet sad at the same time. Happy because she thought that this letter actually stood a chance of making it into Carmen's hands, but sad because . . . if Carmen dismissed this letter, she wasn't sure what was left to be done.

There was no way that she was going to start stalking Carmen and randomly showing up at her house and her gigs. She had caused the woman enough grief and pain, and in no way did she want to prolong that.

She would wait, and she would hope, and she would have faith that the woman that she still loved . . . still loved her enough to give her a small chance.

_...to be continued in Part Two_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I know it's been a few years since I touched this story but what can I say? I've been feeling Sharmen-nostalgic lately so here I am again. :p Thanks to those who have feedbacked and emailed in the interim. :)

* * *

**Part Two: Carmen's Letter**

Carmen put the finishing touches on her makeup, keeping it fairly effortless and clean. Her hair was up in a simple ponytail, her overall look a far cry from the way she used to get dressed up for her DJ-ing gigs. After all, she had only been dressing up for one reason before: because she knew that Shane would be lurking somewhere in the back of the club, watching her and waiting to take her home for the night.

Those days were long gone though. She'd tried to reason, see things from Shane's side, but she just couldn't. What Shane had done to her was the last straw. She'd forgiven infidelity, she'd forgiven emotional distance, but she couldn't forgive the way Shane had trampled on their future – on her heart – so easily.

You just didn't do that kind of thing to someone you love.

Maybe Shane had never loved her at all.

Whatever the case, she was done thinking about it; done beating herself up over what she could've/should've done differently. There answer was always the same every time she thought it through: she never should've fallen in love with Shane in the first place.

With her records and CDs already loaded in her car, all she had to do was make it past her mother and hope to avoid any of the usual drama.

Taking the front staircase instead of the back stairs that led to the kitchen, she was surprised when she came face to face with her mother who was usually busy in the kitchen.

"Going out tonight, Carmencita?"

"Just to work, Ma," Carmen said dismissively, trying to make her way around the stocky woman.

"Maybe you should stop working so much and start trying to have fun again."

"Working is good . I need to work."

Carmen's avoidance of the issue wasn't lost on her mother who frowned sadly. This wasn't her fun and carefree little girl who could always find the good in even the worst situations. This girl standing in front of her was a far cry from the daughter she knew and loved; she was broken and the only person who could fix her was the person who had broke her in the first place.

"Throwing yourself into your work won't make the pain go away, Carmen. You don't need to work; you need to live again," her mother said sincerely, trying to look her daughter in the eyes.

"I _am_ alive. If I wasn't I wouldn't have to feel the things that I do every day." Carmen finally met her mother's gaze, holding it for several seconds until the woman stepped out of her way and let her pass.

Mercedes watched her daughter leave, shaking her head sadly when Carmen had finally pulled away from their house. So much pain. So much suffering. And things would never get better as long as the girl kept lying to herself like that.

"No, mija. You are alive but you are not living."

********************

Carmen brought the last of her cases through the back door of the club, avoiding the buzz of the crowd already starting to form out front. Work was good. She loved DJ-ing and it kept her focused on music and music only. She made sure to pick up as many hours as she could at her personal assistant job during the day.

The only time she was ever alone with her thoughts was late at night and that was never a good time. The tiredness that showed on her face was evident of that. She'd lay down in her bed to sleep and spend hours remembering the way Shane felt against her when they slept, the way they'd laugh and kiss and just love each other; and it was more than her broken heart could handle. She'd finally fall asleep clutching a pillow to her chest, her face buried against it to drown out the sounds of her crying.

If her family had ever heard her, they never said anything. They knew better than to bring up Shane or what had happened. Anytime someone had tried, Carmen shut down and disappeared from the house for hours at a time. Pretty soon they all stopped trying to talk to her about it and let her deal with her pain in her own way, no matter how wrong they thought it was.

"Carmen, are you gonna be ready to go on soon?" the night manager called out from the doorway.

"Yep, this is the last of it. Just need two minutes to get my stuff together and I'm good to go."

"Fantastic. Hey, I left an envelope on your table, make sure you check it out."

"Who's it from?" she asked, her brow furrowing just a little.

"Eager fan I think."

Carmen offered a friendly smile as a thank you and quickly made her way over to her area, placing the crate down just off to the side. Her eyes quickly sought out the envelope and sure enough it was just where the manager had said it would be. It was plain white without any writing on it and Carmen was so busy thinking it had something to do with her music that she was never even suspicious of it.

Slipping her manicured fingernail under the seal, she gently tore it open and unfolded the paper, her heart nearly dropping when she instantly recognized the writing.

Her hands gripped the paper tightly as she read it, her head swimming with more emotions than she knew how to deal with. After all of the effort she'd put into making sure every letter sent to her house had been returned opened, even when her mother and cousins pleaded with her to just read one, Shane had still found a way past her wall of protection.

Forgetting for a moment that she had a job to do and was expected to start any moment, Carmen fumbled through one of her crates for a pen and turned the letter around, angrily writing on the blank side of it.

"Carm? You ready?" the manager asked, watching her with concern as the girl scribbled away feverishly.

"Yeah, just a sec," she said, barely paying any attention to anything but her own anger. She finished just a few moments later and hastily stuffed the paper back in the envelope, not caring that it was all crumbled up and looking quite a mess.

She turned the overstuffed envelope over and jotted Shane's name down on the front and handed it over to the manager with an overly friendly smile on her face.

"If you could just leave that behind the bar in case my 'fan' comes back, I'd really appreciate it."

She didn't wait for a reply, nor did she pay any attention to the look of confusion and concern she was receiving. She held her headphones up to one ear and started a song without hesitation, keeping her head down until she saw the manager walk away out of the corner of her eye.

The music that began thumping from the speakers was a little bit harder, a little bit wilder and louder than she was used to playing, but Carmen didn't care. The louder the music, the crazier the beats . . . the less she had to deal with her own thoughts.

________________________________________________________________________

_No. You don't get to talk now. You had a year to talk to me. To tell me how you felt. To blow me off. _

_But you chose what was supposed to be the most important, magical day of our lives to break my heart, Shane. In front of our friends, in front of my family . . . and you didn't even have the heart to tell me to my face. _

_Seems only fair now that I deny you the same that you denied me, doesn't it?_

_Go to hell, Shane. Leave it be . . . it's over._

__________________________________________________________________________

_tbc  
_


End file.
